Legend Has It
by Amber-Raven-Cahill
Summary: One- shot. Legend has it that when you can't sleep, it's because you're awake in someone else's dream. Ian and Amy find themselves in this situation one fateful night of a crazy Cahill reunion. Love has some absurd ways of showing, doesn't it?


**A/N Hello, readers! I'm sorry for disappearing off of the face of the Earth. Enjoy! I had some random inspiration for this while brushing my teeth; apparently teeth- brushing is my best inspiration- time… **

**I'M WEIRD AND PROUD OF IT ;)**

_**Disclaimer(s): I do not own The 39 Clues nor do I own the cover image. (Sadly).**_

**Hope you guys like this!**

* * *

**LEGEND HAS IT.**

_Legend has it that when you can't sleep, it's because you're awake in someone else's dream_.

It's 1:50AM.

She's lying on her back, tossing; turning. She sighs and rubs her hand over tired eyes, just wishing to sleep. No matter how many times she turns her mind blank, it's just impossible to fall into peaceful slumber.

Tonight, Amy Cahill cannot sleep.

She knows that she should take some sleeping pills- they would definitely send her into the land of shut- eye; but with that glass of wine she drank at the Cahill reunion just before? She isn't sure.

_It's gotta be that goddamned reunion thing I decided to host_, she thinks grumpily. _Can't believe I'm not asleep yet._

She pauses in her train of thought. _Okay_, she thinks. _Even though some of them are staying over for the night, they're probably all asleep, right?_

Amy sits up, throwing the covers aside. She glances at the clock: the numbers glare at her in neon green. _0200_, it says. Right. Two in the morning- everybody should be asleep.

She pulls on her thick, knee- length jacket, padding down to the kitchen for a glass of milk.

* * *

It's 2AM, and Ian Kabra is asleep. He's not just _asleep_, though, notes Hamilton, who's sharing a room with the Lucian. He's talking in his sleep. Through the murmurs and mutters, the burly Tomas can just about make out one name.

Amy.

Hamilton wants to laugh very badly.

Thankfully, he doesn't, settling instead for laughing in _silence, _shoulders shaking in mirth and chuckling very softly. He gets up from his position on a mattress and walks over to hear the Kabra.

He can't hear anything properly. Sighing, Hamilton returns to his bed, slipping back under the covers remorsefully, sad that he can't hear anything else to tell Amy tomorrow.

_At least Ian's thinking of Amy_.

* * *

It's 3AM, and a certain twenty- three year old Madrigal cannot sleep, choosing to instead flop on the sofa in the living room with a book and a glass of milk. She's flipping the pages filled with famous quotes and statements eagerly, delving into the story with the mind of an avid reader. She flips open to the last page, and reads the final sentence.

Amy looks up at the clock on the wall, raising her eyebrows slightly. _Three already? Wow._ Amy closes the book, leaves it on the coffee table, drinking the rest of the hot milk quickly and walking back to her room. Once she climbs back into the safe confines of her bed, she closes her eyes.

The last sentence of the book is what she can remember before sleep claims her.

'_Legend has it that when you can't sleep, it's because you're awake in someone else's dream_.' Then darkness overtakes her, and she is in the grasp of rest.

In her drowse; she's walking, walking to somewhere unfamiliar.

_She rounds a corner, feet bringing her to a park she's never seen before. She walks on to the green, deliciously green grass, the blades scratching gently against her feet. She's barefoot, she realizes with a start. But it doesn't matter and she doesn't really care. Laughing, she runs, picking up speed at a gentle pace. She reaches a tall, strong, woody apple tree, with great fat juicy apples hanging from its branches. Amy spins giddily, laughing. Her reddish- brown hair fans out, contrasting against the clear cerulean sky. _

_Suddenly, she hears footsteps behind her. She stops spinning, turning to face this unknown stranger. Surprisingly, it's not a stranger. It's Ian, Ian Kabra, to be exact. She smiles at him, pulling his hand to her and grinning cheerfully. _

"_It's a wonderful day, is it not?" she asks. _

_He nods, replying, "Yes, it is."_

_They're dancing- really, Amy dancing- with the female swinging wildly and humming happily; Ian laughing in the background. _

Amy smiles in her sleep, unbeknownst to her, she's humming too, in life.

* * *

It's 4AM and Ian sits up, unable to take it anymore. _I slept properly for the first part_, he thinks grumpily. _Now- at four in the morning- I _have_ to wake up?_

He's been awake ever since the clock hands turned to ten past three, and realizing that he's never going to be able to fall back asleep. Sighing, he places his blanket to the side, and seeing that Hamilton is fast asleep- _snore-whoo, snore-whoo_- he puts on a shirt and walks down the kitchen. Seeing a brown oak cupboard in which he remembers Amy taking some tea out for him, he decides to take some tea for himself. _Thank god they have some proper tea_, he thinks, _not some god-awful imitation American_. Pulling out the little tea bag, he puts it in a cup of steaming, boiling hot water in a cup, waits for a minute impatiently, and drinks the _heavenly_ smelling- to him, at least- tea.

He walks over to the living room, still immersed in the smell of the tea. It may not be the kind he is used to back in England; but it'll pass. He sits down on the sofa, worn- out and saggy as it is. In front of him is a coffee table, with a book on it and the newspaper of today. Well. More like yesterday, as he knows it is in the early hours of the morning, in which someone normal or at least not suffering from insomnia would be able to fall asleep.

But he is Ian Kabra, and he is a Cahill.

Perhaps it is due to the bottle of wine he had drank with some of the other Lucians at the party beforehand, as Amy had invited Cahills, albeit who she, Ian, Hamilton and Sinead had deemed 'safe'. He'd drank himself drunk, but was still able to walk to his room somewhat alright and fallen asleep like _that_.

He's disgusted at the fact that he did not brush his teeth, and when he finishes his tea, he walks to the bathroom, picks up a guest toothbrush still in its packaging and brushes. _Thank you, Amy_, he thinks, _for providing the guests with extra toothbrushes_.

Amy.

Was she not what he had been dreaming about just before?

The memory; the sweet dream slips out of his grasp- the only thing of it he can remember is reddish- brown hair fanning out against a clear, cerulean sky.

He finishes the task of brushing his teeth, and proceeds to walk back to his room. Ian falls back on the bed, resting his head on the high- quality pillow, and pulls the blanket over him.

_Amy_ is his last thought.

* * *

It's 10AM, and the house is alive. It's swarming with Cahills, Tomas, Ekaterina, Lucian, Janus and Madrigal alike. Sinead Starling walks through the hall toward the kitchen, and is surprised to find the cupboard door open though she knows no- one had gone to the kitchen yet; they've all headed to the living room to decide what they would do next. She thinks that maybe someone got up earlier, just to eat something.

She thinks no more of it. She walks to the living room, where as she sits down on the sofa with everybody else, notices a book labeled _Famous Quotes of Literature_. It should be Amy's, she reckons, as nobody else would really read that sort of book

Well. Other than Ian, of course, but then, books really are their sort of thing, right?

Sinead shrugs, paying no more attention to that train of thought. Instead, she tunes into what the other Cahills are saying:

"_Woah_. DUDE. That's, like, INSANE." Dan gapes awe- struck at Hamilton as the blonde performs a double backflip. "It's like impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible if you put your heart and soul into it," announces Amy as the redhead pads tiredly in her robe and pajamas to where they are all sitting. "Really."

"_Really_." Dan gives her a look. "So, drinking lava is okay if you put your _heart and soul into it_?" He sounds extremely doubtful, creasing his eyebrows.

"Logical things, Daniel, _logical_ things," says a deep, British voice from behind Amy's seat near the door. He sits down in the closest, vacant spot which he can find- coincidentally next to Amy, and Hamilton sits down so close to Ian that the Lucian has no other choice but to move closer to Amy.

Amy blushes a deep, fiery red, but quickly coughs and conceals it. Ian, on the other hand, keeps a façade of calm, saying nothing and reacting to nothing.

Hamilton arches an eyebrow at the rest of them, and the plan springs into action. It turns out that he'd already told everyone about Ian's little dream.

Jonah is the first to speak. "So," he drawls carefully, keeping his excitement off of his face. "How'd you guys sleep?"

Most of them answer in a series of "yeah, fine" and "okay". But Ian and Amy are silent, with the redhead trying to forget that _stupid_ dream she had had the night before. Or rather, morning. The amber- eyed man is caught up in a tidal wave of memory, _remembering _that odd dream he'd had the morning when he'd been suffering of insomnia.

"Fine," both Ian and Amy reply at the same time. They catch themselves.

Another figure walks towards them- Nellie Gomez. "Hey, kiddos. Sleep well? I saw lots of champagne being drank last night," she jokes. After everyone has repeated their answer, the punk looks at Amy. "I saw you last night going down at, like, 2AM. What happened?"

They all raise their eyebrows. "Yeah, what happened?" they all say, curious.

"Nothing," hastens Amy. "Couldn't sleep was all." Ian looks at her.

"Are you all right?" he asks. "Sleep really is extremely important for a healthy lifestyle, you know," explains Ian.

Across him, Natalie snorts. "As if _you_ would know," she says. "After all, you're the one who has difficulty sleeping thrice a week."

At this, Hamilton adds on eagerly, "No, I don't think so." He nods at everybody; starting their act to expose Ian. "Do you guys know?"

"No, we don't," say the others.

"_Reeeeeeeally_?" It's so fake; Amy wants to laugh. She covers her mouth with a hand, hiding a slight giggle.

"Yeah! In fact, last night, Ian was actually sleep- talking about A-" He's cut off by Ian.

"You shall shut up if you know what's good for you."

"Aw man! I just got to the good part!"

"And that is what I do not want everybody to know." Ian stands up and heads up the stairs, saying, "I did not sleep well last night, as Natalie stated. I shall return to bed- please wake me up when it is time for lunch." With that, he heads upstairs.

Amy gets up, following suite. "I didn't sleep well last night either," she says quietly.

Dan looks at her in confusion. "Whaaat? But- but you said you slept well!"

"I'm tired now, okay, Dan?" She really is tired, Dan decides. Amy walks back to her room, shuts the door, gets under the covers and places her head on the pillow. She tries to remember that dream- a dream that involved someone else. The Madrigal tries to remember, desperately as the dream is fleeting and escaping from her grasp. _Legend has it that when you can't sleep, it's because you're awake in someone else's dream_. She wonders if that was why she was not able to sleep last night; it was possible. But then who's dream? Amy ponders on it for a while, fighting to stay awake as she runs through the possibilities and how she would have been portrayed in their dreams.

_Ian?_ _Nah, why would he ever dream about me?_ She shakes off the thought as it is physical. The redhead runs through more people, each one deeming impossible.

But she's tired, and tired eyes close and a tired body stops moving and Amy's breath slows, coming to a slow, steady rate. She's asleep.

* * *

Ian sighs as he faces the ceiling, wondering what everybody else is doing. He reckons that Sinead is probably reading another non- fictional book, Hamilton would be doing push- ups with ferocity, and Natalie would be assembling her outfits for the next couple of days, and Dan would be… eating. _I am missing Amy_, he thinks, _but I do not know what she is doing_. After dwelling upon this matter for a bit, the British guy finally decides to get up from the warm, comfortable confines of his bed and headed off to see what Amy was doing. _Why am I doing this? _he questions himself, shaking his head. _What have I become? _He stops thinking of such things as he reaches Amy's door and he stops to knocks.

It doesn't open. Ian knocks again, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. Still no answer. Third time's the charm, he decides, knocking for the third time. Now Ian is worried. Amy wasn't the kind to ignore someone. _But then again, who am I to judge? After all, we are still not close; still on the kind of professional and marginally friends sort of relationship._ He feels bitter, and the Lucian doesn't know why.

He leaves.

Little does he know that Amy is on the other side of the door, wishing she had the sheer courage and bravery to just _open the damn door_.

* * *

It's the last day for the Cahills, and as they all pack their bags, getting ready to return to their homes, Amy leans against the marble- white countertop of her kitchen. _I'm gonna miss them_, she thinks sorrowfully. She'll have to wait another year until she can see them again.

A cheeky voice in the back of her mind whispers, _By 'them' you do mean Ian, don't you?_

Taken by surprise, a glass of milk standing next to her gets knocked over as she jumps. "Ah!" she mutters softly as milk seeps across the countertop. "Damn voice in my head,"

"You have a voice in your head?" Next to her, Ian also leans against the countertop as Amy hurriedly wipes the milk up.

"Uh, no. Well, yes. Wait- I mean no!" She sounds flabbergasted, and turns pink.

"I shall take that as a no, then?" Ian raises his eyebrows amusedly.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she says, some of her normal calm returning to her. "Well, you better hurry," she says quietly. "The others should be down soon, Ian."

"I think I know that." Both of them listen intently in awkward silence, and just as Ian predicted, roughly five seconds after his statement, the Cahills clattered noisily down the stairs, chatting loudly.

"So… it's goodbye, I guess?" said Ian with a tinge of regret colouring his voice.

"I guess so." Amy turns her head up to smile at him.

"Goodbye, Amy Cahill. Take care," he said softly.

"Goodbye, Ian Kabra. Take care," she replied equally low in volume.

"HEY COME ON, IAN! CAR'S WAITING!" shrieked Natalie from in front of the house.

"Coming!" he called back.

They parted ways, smiles etched upon each of their faces.

_I'll see you next year_.

**A/N Well! I hope you liked that! If this story garners enough success, I'll probably write a little two- shot to it, maybe concerning their lives back after leaving each other, OR the next Cahill reunion. Up to you! Please choose in your reviews. Thanks for reading, and dropping a review will be appreciated. P.S: Best reviews are copied onto my diary **

**Hope you liked it!**


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